Vyreia

Vyreia

Several hours passed before James summoned up enough strength to leave the room of requirement. It was midnight now, but he honestly didn’t care. Today had been one of the worst days in his young life. He had shared a kiss with Lily Evans and broken up with Meiriona Davies, losing not only his girlfriend but his friendship with Lily in the process. Things would never be the same again now that both girls knew how he truly felt about being with them.

Was it possible to love two people at once?

James didn’t know. His head was spinning, his heart aching. He stopped to perch himself in one of the arched windows in the corridors surrounding the courtyard to further immerse himself in his thoughts. At least no one was around to tease him for the quiet tears that rolled down his tired face.

A grey tabby cat gracefully sat on an opposing arched windows. Alert to disruption or anything that seemed out of the ordinary Minerva sometimes favoured her cat form when doing rounds. Despite years of perfecting her silent swift walk, she still found that is was easier to go unnoticed when posing as a feline.

The Professor took no time to notice her young lion perching himself on one of the windows. None of it concerned her of course as she had noticed something unusual about the boy’s posture. It lacked its usual panache and reckless courage, the boy seemed sad almost defeated.

Concerned for his well being, she jumped off her window and changed into her professorial form as she approached him. “Potter my office, please.” Minerva did not wait for him to respond, she simply led them towards the aforementioned room.

James sighed and nodded, seemingly unsurprised and uncaring that he had been caught wandering the corridors after curfew. Silently he followed behind the Matron of Gryffindor, looking up only once they reached her office.

“I know...I know...” he said defeatedly,” detention. Will it be polishing the trophies this time or scraping away at the chewing gum underside the desks?”

In that instant, the reputation that usually made her so proud caused her a particular sort of pain. Was that all she was to her students? Someone to chastised them when they behaved poorly.

The dim light of her office was enough to reveal the boy's puffy red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. She had witnessed James Potter in many states, some of which she wished she could forget, but it certainly was her first time seeing him without a hint of the usual twinkle in his eyes. She found that it worried her a great deal.

"No detention." She simply said as her wand aimed at a nearby kettle. "Sit." She gestured at the chair in front of her desk, took a tin from one of her draws and pushed it towards the empty chair. "Have a biscuit, Potter."

His brows furrowed in a brief look of confusion when she informed him there would be no detention for his immediate future. James sat as instructed and reached for a biscuit from the tin. Biscuits made everything better, especially when they came from McGonagall. Remus could have his chocolate so long as James could take all the biscuits. He was quite as he nibbled, his eyes focusing on everywhere but on Professor McGonagall’s face.

“...Can I have another?...” He finally spoke, though it was not in his usual cheerful tone, “...Please?”

James nodded his appreciation as he took another biscuit, watching the tea pour into their cups. “I’m fine.” His voice cracked so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine.” He picked up his tea cup only after adding a splash of milk and a dash of sugar. His hands were shaking slightly as he mixed it all together with a tiny spoon.

As much as they frustrated her when they obstructed her young pupils' minds, Minerva knew that matters of the heart were not to be diminished. Everything that mattered hurt and it seemed that for teenagers, matters of the heart often mattered most.

Matters of the heart were however not a topic Minerva often discussed. Being a private person herself, she rarely discussed them or even allowed herself to indulge in maudlin thoughts. She remained silent for a bit, using the preparation of her cup of tea as an excuse to reflect on the boy's question and more importantly how she would address it. James had been far too upset for her to find the strength to dismiss it, but finding the courage to step out of her comfort zone was almost as much of a struggle.

Could she draw from her own experience? She thought of Dougal, her first love, the man she had eventually refused for fear that her marrying a muggle would hinder on her career. Not to mention that she had seen the strain that marrying a muggle had caused on her mother. She had learned of Dougal's death in a gruesome anti-muggle attack a few years prior. Minerva had come to accept that she would always love Dougal despite the great pain she felt whenever she thought about him. Would she have been able to save him had she chosen to marry him?

Then there was Elphinstone, relentless in his love for her despite her constant refusal to openly reciprocate. She loved him too, but it would never be the same as the love she felt for Dougal.

"It is." She finally admitted after a sip of tea. "However, I do think the feeling is always quite unique. It finds its colors in the relationship between the people who share it. "

James finally took a drink of the tea. It was soothing, and it warmed his insides like a comforting hug.

“Colors? Professor” asked the sixteen-year-old boy with the tilt of his head. “I don’t’ understand”

He then looked down at his teacup, partially in shame and embarrassment. “You see, I was dating Meiriona Davies. I…had…have” he corrected “… feelings for her.”

For once in his young life, James seemed terribly unsure of himself.

“But then, I’ve liked Evans since…well forever”

It was difficult to open, to talk about his feelings to McGonagall, but who else would he be able to talk to about this sort of thing? Sirius? His Mother? No. There was no one else.

“And I kissed her. I kissed Evans.” He took another sip tea to calm his nerves, trying to ignore the flush of heat that was creeping up his neck. “I told Meironia what happened because it was the right thing to do. But I lost both a friend and a girlfriend because of it.”

Even she had to admit that her imagery had been lacking. She was about to reword her meaning when the boy started to share the details of his heart's woes. The professor put a hand up in protest, she had not intended on hearing the grimy details of his schoolboy aches, speaking in general terms would have sufficed.

But the boys kept talking, confirming whispers that even the private professor had not been able to avoid.

Finally, she was able to share what she had meant, all while determining avoiding to use the names that James had bluntly shared. "When you think of those individuals with their own qualities and challenges, when you think about the feelings you have for them can't you feel certain differences? Perhaps in the degree of your feelings or maybe the persistence of your feelings?" Minerva had clearly heard him mention his lasting feelings for Lily Evans, she was not one to admit to bias, but she had noticed the young man's interest for the talented redhead many years prior.

James couldn’t help it. His story spewed out like word vomit, and by the end of it he had the decency to look moderately embarrassed.

“Oh....” was all he could manage after McGonagall’s explanation.

James rubbed the back of his neck, feeling rather uncomfortable. While he was relieved in finally being able to release his pent up emotions, his favorite teacher now knew more in-depth about his personal life.

Somehow this was worse than her knowing he was an illegal animagus running round with a werewolf every full moon.

James took McGonagall’s words into deep consideration before he spoke again,”Lucia accepts me for who I am. But Lily makes me want to be better.”

Glad to see that her words were being considered and seemingly understood Minerva nodded. "And those are the choices that define our character." She observed sharply. That was as far as she was willing to participate in the decision process that the young man would have to navigate.

"Now, if I'm familiar enough with your work habits," which she was, "I am willing to theorize that you have yet to start your essay on the Principles of Re-Materialisation." She had been willing to hear what had been on the young man's mind and a part of her did sympathize, but that did not mean that he would be excused from handing in his essay like everyone else. "If I were you I would get to that as soon as possible."